chronicles of idiosyncrasy

note to world #1042

Life was a dizzying cycle of sameness: and sometimes everything that happened in between waking and sleeping was a gawping blank.

She felt herself falling into the dulled gap of daytime more and more, never certain whether anything actually occurred or was possibly just dreamed up under the artificial fluorescence of her office lights. She certainly no longer dreamed at night, in the dark — her slumber had become staccato, brief heavy naps punctuated by interludes of bleary-eyed worry.